The Mirror of Erised: A Collection of Hopes and Horrors
by bananabertiebottbean
Summary: The Mirror of Erised is a powerful, rather hidden object. We know what Harry sees, along with a few others, but it begs the question of what some of our favorite (and least favorite) characters would see when gazing into the mirror's depths. This story is a collection of one-shots about what the characters from Harry Potter see inside the Mirror of Erised.
1. Introduction

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is home to many beginnings and ends. Tom Riddle's entire history, for example, can be seen as starting and ending on Hogwarts' hallowed grounds. Remus Lupin's life can be explained in a similar fashion: he was given the chance to start fresh by attending the school, and eventually, took his last breath to protect it. Not even _Hogwarts: A History _can document everything the esteemed school has given to its pupils. Home to hopes and horrors, it leaves one wondering: what is there that Hogwarts could show you, entice you with; but never give you? The answer lies in a long-forgotten passageway off the third-floor corridor. Past a drool-stained trap door, some dented keys, and empty vials of potions, stands the Mirror of Erised.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire".

Although nothing more than a bewitched sheet of glass, the mirror holds untold powers. "Men have wasted away before it," a man familiar with the mirror once said, "not knowing if what they have seen is real or even possible". There is nothing more dangerous than the temptation of our heart's greatest wish. The heart, you see, is beyond all logic and reasoning. To be tempted with something perfectly tailored to our heart's strongest, most desperate wish is more perilous than any dark magic or unforgivable curse. And yet, humans continue to foolishly gaze upon it, and, as humans so often do, ignore the danger and the risk for a glimpse at their own personalized perfection.

Perhaps this is why the mirror has been left to collect dust in a fire-scorched dungeon. Who could be trusted to keep such an object secret? No mere mortal can be handed that responsibility, no; the best way to protect the mirror is to entrust it will be forgotten. But until that fateful day, a brave few venture into the desolate passageway guided by whispered rumors and faded memories. What they see in the mirror cannot be fathomed preemptively. It may haunt them or entrance them, help or hinder them, but one thing's for certain:

Whatever they see in the mirror will change them forever.

So read on, if you dare, and get a glimpse of the images that will ingrain themselves into the brains of those foolhardy enough to make the journey. But consider yourself lucky, dear reader, that you are far, far away from the temptation of the mirror's seductive glimmer.

_**xXx**_

_A/N: Hello there! Here's an idea I had for a collection of oneshots and I thought it needed a bit of an introduction. I already have a few ideas, but if there's someone you'd like to see, feel free to comment it!_


	2. Neville Longbottom

Neville looked around nervously. He couldn't believe this large, empty chamber was the same one in which Harry defeated Quirrell, and delayed Voldemort, in their first year. _It could've been you_, whispered a small voice in the back of his head. Neville merely sighed in response. He wasn't sure what he wanted, which is what brought him down here, but he knew it wasn't that. Fame, glory, and responsibility were not high on the Herbologist's list. Looking around, and realizing he had little way to procrastinate what he had come down here for, Neville took a few hesitant steps toward the mirror.

It was taller than he'd imagined it, and far less intimidating. The length of time it had stood in this spot was betrayed only by a thin layer of dust on the frame. Neville took a moment to admire the object in front of him, knowing he was one of the few to eye it in the last century. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, Neville stopped his eyes from tracing the edge of the mirror and looked directly at his reflection.

The glass was perfectly smooth; no cracks to speak of. For a moment, Neville saw nothing but his apprehensive reflection. Then, slowly, the image began to change. Neville saw himself dressed in his billowing professor's robes, despite the casual clothes he had ventured down here in. He looked well-dressed, but the tell-tale dirt under his reflection's fingernails showed that he had been amongst flora and fauna not long ago. Next to him stood Hannah, whom he was set to marry in a few months' time, and she was beaming simultaneously at his reflection and his real self. Neville couldn't help but smile back.

Behind Hannah, but not by much, stood three figures. A smiling man with Neville's goofy ears and a kind woman with Neville's soft eyes stood there, gazing at him intently. He knew the figures to be his parents, and although he visited them at St. Mungo's often, the mirror revealed a new depth to their gazes. They looked at Neville not only as if they knew him, but as if they were proud of him; knew what he'd been up to. The image tugged at his heartstrings, knowing it could never come to be. To add to the melancholy, Neville took the time to inspect the third figure. A blonde, plump, grinning woman met his gaze, and Neville knew at once this must be Hannah's mother. She had died before the couple had gotten together, and while her tragic death had not affected Neville at the time, he knew that the death of Hannah's mother weighed heavily on his fiancée's mind. Thus, Neville's greatest wish was for the person who made him the happiest to be happy as well. Neville stared wistfully at the people in the mirror, knowing this was the closest he'd get to truly knowing most of them.

It was with a jolt that he noticed Hannah's round belly, and he felt his cheeks catch on fire. After the way he was raised, Neville wanted nothing more than a loving family to surround himself with and also be a part of. He realized excitedly that Hannah and him would someday soon have their own bundles of joy.

Neville took one last look at the mirror, willing his brain to memorize every detail of his parents' lucid faces. Then, with a small nod, he turned away. He refrained from glancing over his shoulder as he left, but he wasn't as conflicted about leaving as he had feared he would be. He missed his parents greatly, and often mourned the relationship they could have had, but he knew it was in the past. He felt similarly, although not as strongly, about Hannah's mother. But he contrasted the underlying darkness in these thoughts by dreaming of the future him and Hannah would have together. _It's not perfect, _Neville thought honestly, _but it's what I've got. Maybe Hannah and I's paths wouldn't have crossed without the sadness of our pasts. _And so, with hope for the future burning inside him, Neville walked determinedly away from the mirror, confident he would never see it again.

**xXx**

_A/N: first one done! Loved it? Hated it? Let me know! And also, please please suggest characters you want to see next. I saw someone said the marauders so I'm thinking I'll do one of them next! I do love me some Lupin. That does bring up the point though that hopefully you all can forgive that the timing won't exactly be realistic/canon (it's not like I can have James look into the mirror nowadays, yknow?) but if you can all ignore that blip, so can I! Until next time:)_


	3. Remus Lupin

_A/N: Before this starts, I wanted to mention I see this as occurring after the war, but I'm not saying he survived the war, either. Perhaps you could suspend your disbelief and imagine with me that Lupin's ghost is looking in the mirror?_

xXx

Remus Lupin was a simple man. _Half of one, anyways_, he thought to himself derisively. Which is why, upon hearing of the enchanted mirror tucked away inside Hogwarts, he couldn't help but make the trip to see it. He knew it wasn't money or riches he was after, no; in fact, he was almost wary of finding out his heart's deepest desire. For a simple man, he had lived a horribly convoluted life.

Mentally shaking himself, he took a few quick strides toward the mirror and gazed upon it calmly. His Gryffindor pride simply refused to let him be intimidated by the enchanted object, no matter how powerful it was. Lupin gazed at his tired appearance and barely flinched when the image began to swirl rather quickly, even though he was standing quite still. At last, the colors solidified, and Lupin smiled at what he saw.

His reflection stood tall, beaming at him, looking so much younger than his current self that Lupin actually felt unsettled. _Suppose that's what I would look like fully human_, he mused, admiring his face free of worry lines, stubble, and wrinkles. His clothes, while not ostentatious, looked new and untarnished. He absentmindedly fingered a patch in the sleeve of his own shirt, realizing just how much the curse had taken from him. Lupin was not a material man, however, so he tore his attention away from these minor details and took in the rest of the picture.

James and Sirius smiled back, looking as alive as he did. Lupin felt another pang of longing at something else that had been taken from him. _So many people must come to this mirror dreaming of things they could come to own, and all my reflection reminds me of is those that I've lost too soon. _He noticed that Sirius' face did not look haunted from its time in Azkaban; he, too, appeared free from his worldly constraints in the mirror's glossy surface. James, who had been taken so young, appeared slightly older in the mirror, although not in a bad way. Noticing there were more figures, Lupin turned his attention to take in the spectacle that he was lucky enough to call his wife: Tonks. Her hair was bright pink and her eyes shined just as brightly. She had her arms wrapped around a young boy who was shyly smiling up at Lupin. _Teddy_. Lupin winced slightly as he felt a sharp pain in his chest and wondered why it hurt so much to see what he wanted most. _Probably because I really, truly can never have any of this. What I want most in the world_, he thought sullenly, _is to be given back what was so unfairly taken from me. My friends, my humanity, my family_…

Lupin heaved a great sigh and noticed his eyes were suddenly hot with unshed tears. He briefly wondered what he had possibly done in his time on Earth to deserve the cards he had been dealt. _I suppose dwelling on that will bring me nothing but more to despair over._

He was jerked from his downward-spiraling thoughts by a change in the mirror. His friends and his wife had taken a step back, and Teddy stood next to Lupin's reflection. Teddy reached toward his father and held his hand tightly, and although Lupin knew he couldn't feel what his reflection felt, he swore he felt his own hand warm slightly. He took a long time to marvel at his only son's face. He had Tonk's devilish eyes and crooked smile, but his eyes were an identical copy of Lupin's, minus the hardened look Lupin's had adopted through his trials and tribulations. Teddy was small in the mirror, no older than 6, but his face held a bravery that made Lupin's heart soar. Teddy was gazing at him intently now, and Lupin understood immediately what his earnest stare meant. _I'll be alright, dad._

A lot of things had been taken from Remus Lupin, a man who spent his entire, short life doing his very best to give. But maybe, just maybe, he could make peace with that, if his own sacrifices allowed for Teddy to live a sincerely happy life. And with a final look over his shoulder, Lupin knew with certainty that if the life he had lived was the only way to have his son, he would live it all over again in a heartbeat.

xXx

_A/N: hope you liked it! The inspiration for Lupin goes out to __Nupurlath__, who requested a marauder! I've had one for Hermione, who I also really like, so I'm thinking that'll be the next chapter. If there's anyone else you'd like to see, leave a comment! See you next Monday!_


	4. Petunia Dursley

Not many people could enter a room centered around one of the most impressive magical artifacts of all time and choose, instead, to focus their attention on the layer of dust that coated the vast room. Unfortunately for us, dear reader, Petunia Dursley is one of those people.

She wrinkled her nose at the state of the room she found herself in. _All their magic spells and they choose to live in this filth?_ This assumption filled Petunia with an enormous amount of superiority, and nothing improved her spirits quite like knowing she was better than someone. Reveling in her greatness, Petunia reflected that someone of her caliber also deserved nothing but the best. That is why, despite her intense dislike of all things magical, she found herself standing in front of the ornate mirror. Despite the distance she tried to put between herself and the magical community, even she had heard whispers of a magic mirror that would show her what she desired most. Ever the gossip, Petunia quickly explored these rumors, and when she learned that the omnipotent mirror resided in the school her sister and nephew had attended, Petunia knew she had to make the trip to see it.

And so, here she stood, fixing the mirror with the judgmental gaze she primarily reserved for her neighbor who allowed his dog to poop on the immaculate lawns of Number 4 Privet Drive and then pretend he hadn't noticed. Evidently, she had to be closer to the musty object for its magic to work, as she saw nothing but her own reflection shrewdly gazing back at her. She took a step forward and braced herself, hoping the mirror would show her something that would happen in the near future. Petunia did not like to be kept waiting.

The contents of the mirror swirled, giving Petunia time to glance disdainfully at the streaky attempt somebody had made at cleaning the glass. Moments later, the picture stilled, and Petunia actually took a step back at what she saw. She wasn't hosting an elaborate tea party, or winning an award for her involvement in the PTA, or even standing happily next to her loving husband. No, the Petunia before her was wearing a hideous, baggy set of black robes. Petunia stared at this version of herself, utterly bewildered, until reflection-Petunia pulled a thin wooden stick out of her sleeve and conjured a delicious looking pie, which she handed, beaming, to her son Dudley. Oddly enough, he was wearing robes as well, and smiled back at her fondly.

_No. It can't be._

Petunia let out a shriek and stepped away from the mirror, closed her eyes, and drew a deep breath. Surely the thing was malfunctioning. Surely it knew she wanted no part of its world. _That must be it. A mistake. _Petunia shook her head to clear away the bad feeling she had and stepped back into view of the mirror. Once again, her reflection blurred in front of her eyes, swirled very quickly, then returned to the image of her and her son. Petunia felt a rush of anger. _How dare this blasted piece of glass insinuate I want to be…some kind of…freak…_

But then, Petunia did something very odd indeed. She stopped and thought.

All she had wanted, when Lily received her letter, was to be a part of Lily's special world. Lily received the attention and the praise from their doting parents, while all Petunia had gained was jealousy. Jealousy and spite had kept her going throughout the years as her sister advanced through her magic education. Who cared if Petunia did well in maths and English when Lily had perfect marks in Charms and Potions? Certainly not their parents. The more Petunia thought about this, the emptier she began to feel. This was why, when Harry had been left in her and Vernon's care, she insisted they label the boy's talent as freakish. She pretended to be afraid of magic, when in reality, she was afraid of being overshadowed once again by a world she could never truly belong in.

If Petunia was being honest with herself, what she wanted more than anything was to be as special as her sister and nephew. She wanted her perfect son to share in that glory as well. Because it wasn't about the magic, not really; it was about being a part of something that had been cruelly dangled in front of her, always just out of reach, for the majority of her formative years. That kind of torment, clearly, resulted in more damage to her psyche than Petunia had ever realized before this moment.

Petunia had been so overwhelmed by this brutally honest glance into her subconscious that she had forgotten, for several minutes, to act like her pompous, stuck-up self. Quickly coming to a decision, she turned on her heel and marched away from the reflection, but the damage had been done.

Petunia sighed and rubbed her temple. As she marched away from the decidedly horrible object, she banished the image of her and Dudley in wizard's robes from her mind. Vernon would have a fit if he knew. _And he'd be none too thrilled to know he didn't even make an appearance in my reflection_. And so, with an air of arrogance only Petunia Dursley could pull off in a deserted room, she strode out of the desolate chamber, dreaming up the details of the elaborate tea party she was going to tell Vernon was depicted in her reflection. Because, she thought determinedly, the ugly truth she had learned today would be one more thing that could sit in this room, forgotten and collecting dust for all she cared. She would never speak of it again.

xXx

_A/N: I was all ready to type Hermione, but this inspiration for Petunia would not leave me alone! Hope you enjoyed it; I wanted to mix in a darker one because I don't want them to get too predictable. Anyways, leave your thoughts and requests below and I'll see you next Monday!_


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